


Yer a wizard, Harry

by haku23



Category: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haku23/pseuds/haku23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry fucks up a case and Perry has some choice words for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yer a wizard, Harry

Let me just tell you the kind of situation I have to deal with on a regular basis. One: the guy who's supposed to be my assistant is a giant fuck up. Two: there's a dead guy in front of me because of situation number one. Have I mentioned number three? Oh right, same as number one. Harry Lockhart is a huge fuck up.

 

Picture this, I just want you to picture it, asshole, me: trying to get some work done, make a living, him: shooting people in the foot. People I need to not be shot in the foot. People don't like being shot in the foot and I like having to deal with that even less because there are exactly two reactions that people have to being shot. One: pissing themselves, or two: screaming “you shot me!” like I'm supposed to give a shit. This guy has done both so I'm already on the way to a migraine from the sheer stupidity happening right now. Dark alley, Harry Fuck Up Lockhart, and me with a mark with a bullet through his foot. I hate to dwell on that shit but it's kind of a big deal.

 

And then he makes it a bigger one.

 

“I think he's dead.”

 

“How do you _think_ he's dead, dipshit? He's either dead or alive.”

 

I don't ask  _why_ he's dead because what's the point? It's probably a stupid reason anyway-men are pussies.

 

“No, wait. He's dead.”

 

Like I'm not losing money on this. Like I haven't spent the good part of two weeks tracking this asshole down.

 

“Hey, Harry?”

 

“Yeah?” Still looking at the dead guy.

 

“Have you ever heard of Harry Potter?” and I say this with total fucking serenity which is really difficult when you're talking to Harry Lockhart so I should really get an award for this.

 

“My niece was crazy over it a couple of years ago, why?” The better question is _why_ is he so fascinated by this dead man who is bleeding from his head and foot. Who the fuck shot him in the head? Actually, never mind, “I think she still has all the books. I stole her a wand from the store once. For Christmas I think. Or was that Halloween?”

 

I ignore his other verbal diarrhoea because it's the only way to remain sane, “So you know that part where Hagrid goes to Harry Potter and tells him that he's wizard.”

 

Finally he tears his eyes away because he knows by now when an insult is coming but he doesn't know yet what I'm going to say because I am an enigma to everyone but myself. “Are you going to get to the point? This guy is dead and I'm pretty sure I hear sirens. Are those for us? Can they tell when we're doing illegal stuff? I heard that they're making little microchips to put in criminals-”

 

“Yer a retard, Harry Lockhart.”

 

And now I get to carry a dead body around in the trunk of my car. Happy fucking New Year.

**Author's Note:**

> Calling people retards isn't nice, okay. I thought of this at work which explains why it's so all over the place but yep, that's it.


End file.
